Page:The heptalogia, or, The seven against sense - a cap with seven bells (IA heptalogiaorseve00swin).pdf/83

 Now I'm none of your bashful John Bulls who don't know a pilau from a puggaree Nor a chili, by George, from a chopstick. So, sir, I marched into her snuggery, And proposed a light supper by way of a finish. I treated her, Bill, To six entrées of ortolans, sprats, maraschino, and oysters. It made her quite ill. Of which moment of sickness I took some advantage. I held her like this, And availed myself, sir, of her sneezing, to shut up her lips with a kiss. The waiters, I saw, were quite struck; and I felt, I may say, entre nous, Like Don Juan, Lauzun, Almaviva, Lord Byron, and old Richelieu.